


Lanterns Lit

by JillNeverland



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: 6000 Years of Slow Burn (Good Omens), Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Anathema and Newton's marriage, Angst with a Happy Ending, Angsty Crowley (Good Omens), Aziraphale Loves Crowley (Good Omens), Aziraphale and Anathema Device are Friends (Good Omens), Aziraphale and Crowley Through The Ages (Good Omens), Aziraphale goes missing for a couple of years, Aziraphale played a part in the end of apartheid, Aziraphale's Bookshop (Good Omens), Bottom Brian Clough, Boys Kissing, Brian Clough is Aziraphale's lookalike, Caring Aziraphale (Good Omens), Charlie Chaplin (mention), China History, Crowley Hates the 14th Century (Good Omens), Crowley Loves Aziraphale (Good Omens), Crowley Loves Kids (Good Omens), Crowley Was Raphael Before He Fell (Good Omens), Crowley as a football manager, Crowley can feel Aziraphale, Crowley can't cry, Crowley stays until the end, Crowley thinks Brian Clough is Aziraphale, Crowley's Fall (Good Omens), Emotional Crowley (Good Omens), Emotional Hurt/Comfort, End of USSR, Football!AU, Freddie Mercury is Crowley's human friend, French Revolution, Godparents Aziraphale and Crowley (Good Omens), Guillotine, History, Hugs, Hurt No Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, Implied talks, Japan History - Freeform, Kissing, M/M, Masturbation, Multi, Nanny Crowley (Good Omens), Nelson Mandela as new president of South Africa, Nelson Mandela's Nobel Prize, Oblivious Aziraphale (Good Omens), Power Play, Quote: You go too fast for me Crowley (Good Omens), References to Depression, Revenge Sex, Rough Sex, Smut, Soldier!Crowley, Spy!Crowley, Tartan Hydroflask, The Bentley Ships It (Good Omens), The Bentley feels Crowley's anguish, The Bentley loves Freddie Mercury's voice, The Damned United references, The bentley loves Queen, Top Crowley (Good Omens), Vietnam War, Wars, World War I, World War II, Worried Aziraphale (Good Omens), earth history, mentions of woman harassment
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-26
Updated: 2019-09-02
Packaged: 2020-09-27 10:39:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 17,359
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20406358
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JillNeverland/pseuds/JillNeverland
Summary: 6000 years of slow burn of our two favourite idiots...Through time, see how they lived it.





	1. Fall and Betrayal - (Billie Eilish – Ilomilo / HOME - Resonance)

**Author's Note:**

> Mostly Crowley POV... I have some trouble with Aziraphale's POV lately.  
It will be quite short, will become smutty...  
And can be angsty.  
YOU WERE WARNED.  
(tags will be added as the chapters will be written.)

Love hurts.

Feelings hurts.

That’s basically what he had learned when he fell. His pit of boiling sulfur had taken him everything he loved. Everything he cared for. Leaving him with pain.

Deep, unbearable pain. Worse than anything he knew. He thought that the little cut he had from his measurement machine, while creating that beautiful nebula, was painful. This was a billion times worse. He had wished to die that day. To end the suffering. It never seemed to stop. First, his wings were burned. He couldn’t stand. He was bent, his shouts resonating in that dark pool, alone. No one could answer him. His golden eyes came next. He couldn’t close them. He couldn’t cry. He kept shouting. Literally.

As he thought it was over, all his body burned. And he lost his voice. He lost the sound. He lost his name and angelic soul.

And that’s when his feelings were torn away from him. He could only feel anger, sadness, desperation, exhaustion… And he felt alone. For the first time in his existence, he felt alone. That was the worst.

When everything ended, he layed there, on the ground, curled to himself.

He couldn’t cry.

He couldn’t speak.

He couldn’t move.

He could barely remember how he felt _before_.

Lucifer was the one who helped him out. The first to fall. The one who made him fall by putting those stupid questions in his mind. Seeds he had hated so much. The Prince of Hell was smiling at him, showing him the new place, explaining him how _free_ he would be, compared to Heaven. Free to move, free to do whatever he wanted, free to ask questions…

He didn’t know how freedom felt. But he didn’t wanted to feel anymore.

Then Lucifer gave him a name.

Crawly.

He hated it.

He hated his name as much as he hated the way Hell looked. So messy, so administrative… Papers everywhere, demons walking in the halls of that endless prison. He hated everything and everyone. Getting out and have a bowl of fresh air was his deepest desire. He knew he was one of the Prince of Hell’s favourite subjects. He did as he told, his sharp tongue biting back comments, trying to find some peace getting his work done.

He never took part in the First War. When it unfolded, he went to see the stars one last time. That was the memory he hid and the only one that kept him going. He wanted to see them again. To see Alpha Centauri. To see Eta Carinae. One last time. That’s the only thing he asked for. He had stopped caring about his wellbeing and his future. He only wanted to get out one last time.

He had put signs everywhere… “Do not lick the walls”. It was so annoying when they were sticky, mostly when you were one of the cleaners. Ligur had tried to do so, in front of his eyes, and it ended up in a fight. Hastur and Dagon had to stop them, Beelzebub quieting the other demons. They had ended up in a pit for a few days. That’s how Beelzebub ended up being another Prince. It was pretty fun to see how his actions had strange impacts around him. Ligur had to work with Hastur. They did amazing work together. Crawly never had a co worker. They tried to make pairs, so demons could be more effective… But no one could work with him.

He was too bitter to let anyone linger next to him for too long.

Earth was created. Every demon looked forward to it. That meant more souls to take. Crawly hadn’t given much thought to it since he fell, and had been curling in his snake form in his office for some days, napping, his work done and no assignments coming. Beelzebub had walked in, unexpected, ordering him to go up and make some trouble. The order came from Lucifer itself. It had surprised him, but he did went up.

Then he saw the Tree of Eden.

And Eve not really far.

So he talked to her.

An apple wasn’t a huge deal...

And that’s how he created the first temptation.

Became the first tempter.

He moved towards the Eastern Gate. Adam and Eve were gone from the Garden. That was the first time he could feel the wind, the sun and see the sky. So he slithered his way on the wall. An angel was standing there. First time he saw one. He could feel he was worried. Angels are never worried. Ever. That was a first. His interest bitten and in dire need of talking, he changed back to his humanoid shape, his black wings unfurling behind him, as he talked. The angel didn’t understand snake tongue, so he had to repeat his sentence in the common language. It was quite funny to see how agitated and flustered the celestial became. Two temptations in one day… That could do it. He made fun of the young one, hiding the feelings that came rushing through him as he discovered how different that angel was from the others. Quite a surprise he didn’t fell…

As the first drops of rain fell, the platinium haired being next to him shielded him from it with his wing. The first nice gesture someone ever did to him as a demon.

If he had a heart, it would have beaten faster.

If he had an angel soul, it would have brightened.

If he could feel the same things as an angel, his love would radiate from him.

But he had nothing.

So he moved awkwardly towards the angel, both of them admiring how beautiful the sky became under the first storm.

The angel had left him. The night fell, and, for the first time in his whole existence, he felt free. He felt like no one could stop him now. The stars lighted up, the dark sky showing them in their most beautiful ways. Like billions of lanterns in the sky. His demon soul ached for more, some residuals of his past self calling. A soft, cold and damp breeze stroked his face, a new smell caught in his nose. So different from the usual smell of sulfur in Hell. He knew it came from the mix of rain and dust…

_Petrichor_.

He enjoyed it.

He felt a warmth in his stomach, lighting up.

He stayed there all night, looking at the stars, laying on his back on the sand of the neverending desert, wishing he would never have to leave this place.

\-----------------------

Aziraphale had been quite troubled by the way this demon had talked to him. He had enjoyed company, found it nice… But they were enemies, weren’t they ? He couldn’t…

Yet he couldn’t stop thinking about him. The nicest being he had met…

\-----------------------

Lucifer assigned the snake on Earth, for a temporary job, a couple of hundred years after making him go up. He would be helped by fellow demons that would go up to tempt every human around. He was supposed to take care of a man and his family. Tempt them too. Or at least hinder God’s plans for the humans. He barely knew what it was about. No one really knew. He went back up for the second time since that day in the Garden of Eden. He had been the most successful at blending with the new race apparently… But the Cain and Abel’s fight led him to hide for some time, even if he, technically, didn’t do anything to made them fight… Greed is too powerful.

He only had the man’s name. Noah. He had to find him.

And so he did.

As well as his wife, boys and their wives. Emzara, Shem and Ar’yel, Ham and Kezia, Japheth and Rayneh. The man warned him about an incoming flood and why he must build the Ark. Humans around him didn’t believe him nor helped him. They were laughing at the last Patriarch. Crawly knew his work here was already done… But he really liked Shem. A brilliant boy who had great ambitions… And it was fun to talk to humans. So he gave them a hand. As he did so, he took the time to ask some questions to Noah, to understand him.

“Why do you trust God ?”

“Because God is right. He’s always protected us. Humans have failed Him.”

The demon laughed internally at the use of a masculine pronoun. God has always liked feminine ones. Not that They cared, but They were quite a genderfluid being… With a feminine tendency. Queer before anyone could accept it. Every angel and demon was a kind of queer. They could change their genders whenever they liked… But not a lot dared to run around with some appendage down there. Angels were too scared of Lust… And demons designed a couple to do _that_ kind of job. Crawly never really tried anything at this point… But he was curious.

“What makes you keep going through this step ?”

“God and his promise of safety.”

The snake had snickered at this, earning him a slap from Shem who was running around with some boards… And the laughs of Ham and Japheth. Emzara had stopped any conversation by offering some food to the hard working boys.

Shem and Crawly spent a lot of their night time laying on their backs, joking, talking about the stars, planets and what could live in the Universe.

It was his first friend, and it felt good.

The last day before the storm, the demon’s sense of justice kicked in.

“Children are innocent. Why won’t you save them ?”

“Children’s souls have been tarnished because of their parents. I can’t.”

That’s when the snake slithered his way away from the Ark. It had hurt much more than he wanted. He never liked the idea of killing kids. He couldn’t bear it.

The Day of the Flood, the angel was here.

He had feigned ignorance, feigned horror…

Then it started raining.

And he disappeared.

He couldn’t stand the idea of children being killed because She was angry.

So he had saved them. Hiding them in the darkest place of the Ark. No one could find them.

And he had released them safely when everyone else had left the boat…

Noah had never been so right…

He felt betrayed, for the second time of his existence.

\-----------------------

The angel had felt something strange about his demon. He had brushed it off as they talked, but something was wrong. He had to keep an eye on him… Head office’s orders. So he did.

What he saw, on the Ark, watching all those children sleeping peacefully against his hereditary enemy warmed his heart. He could feel love. This demon loved children as angels loved every being… He couldn’t bear to hurt him. They would eventually talk about it one day…

When he saw how destroyed he was when those kids grew made him sad.

He cried for the first time, mourning the innocence of youngesters and greed of Man.

\-----------------------

Crowley had roamed in Greece. He had loved their writers… The music was too holy for him, but it was good enough. It was fun to watch a civilization worshipping gods that didn’t exist…

Humans had an extraordinary imagination. He knew that since the first pagans made their way through the young History of Earth.

He became a Dionysos worshipper for some years. Felt right.

He loved their stories. His eyes, based on movement, couldn’t stay concentrated long enough to learn how to read though. A small problem, since only a few of them could do it…

His eyes started to become a problem. He ran in Egypt to avoid a false accusation.

What he saw in that country was one of the most marvelous civilizations he had encountered. He stayed there a few years, learning what pyramids were for and how they worked.

Then he roamed around Africa.

When Alexandria’s library burned down in 48 BC, he was here. Aziraphale too. That was the first time they’ve ever shared a drink. The angel seemed unconsolable. They had talked about human culture and what they did the past years until the sun went up, then parted ways. He had felt a small pang in his soul when he was alone again. He had never been really good with relationships.

\-----------------------

Aziraphale was torn. He knew he should follow him… But the snake of Eden did mourn that great loss with him. And no one ever did… No one cared enough to do so. So he let him go, even if his soul screamed otherwise.

Not for the same reason as Upstairs strangely…

He couldn’t figure out what was happening.

\-----------------------

80 years later, the demon received another assignment. An important one. He knew when they came from Lucifer himself… Because they ended up in his mind… _Literally_ in his mind.

He had to tempt a young man.

His name was Jesus Christ.

And he worshipped God.

Crawly sneered. Shouldn’t be hard to get him on their side, seeing how humans were drawn towards Lust.

She found him a couple of months later. In Jerusalem. Well, not a bad place… If there weren’t so many roman soldiers around. The young man was trying his best to spread christianity as smoothly as he could. The demon had changed his appearance towards a more feminine one. Easier to talk to some soldiers that way. And move them out of her way. She listened to his prayers and felt a bit of warmth again. The only time she felt that was when she was around Aziraphale…

God did move in mysterious ways after all…

She asked him if they could talk.

And oh they did.

Hours… If not days… Talking about God’s creations, Her way of seeing things, why he believed in Her, why he wanted people to start beliving… And why he was ready to perish for Her. It was a deliberate and crazy choice, but _his_.

Crawly knew she couldn’t tempt him. He was too pure.

So she moved on, keeping an eye on the agitation around.

One day or another, they will start believing in God. She knew that. She never understood why God was willing to make so many sacrifices though.

She was never fond of killing.

33AD.

She had moved in Golgotha. She had witnessed Christ’s detention…

And now she was witnessing his crucifixion.

Aziraphale had been around. She didn’t want to go alone. He wanted to see the man.

What a strange way of meeting someone.

The talk she had with Jesus made her change her name.

She was now Crowley.

And that was the end of an era.

She could feel in, deep in her too human bones.

The angel had offered him a drink. She had refused. She needed to be alone for some time.

She knew what was coming.

Crowley had been reprimanded. Of course he would.

Christianity was slowly spreading, and they had cut his long hair for a warning. They had sent him back up, a small temptation in hand, in Rome. If he messed it up, he would be under close observation. Shit times.

He had needed a drink. He had bought a pair of a new invention : glasses. Dark ones, so no one would bother him anymore.

He had never thought that the angel would be here too.

Nor that they would even have oysters together.

That was the first time since Alexandria’s library fire they had spent so much time together.

He never mentioned the punishment he had.

He had a wonderful time.

Too wonderful maybe.

He had been sick of Europe. He wanted to move. So he did. He went to see the Mayas. Oh, what another amazing civilization. They were builders and believers. A bit harsh on some bits, but it was crazy. He loved how the idea of pyramids had moved across the ocean without a single exchange… Like it was some innate part of humanity.

Up to some point, he received another assignment. So he went to England. The kingdom of Wessex more precisely. He became what people called the Black Knight.

That’s when he ended up being very tired of running across Aziraphale only to try to thwart his plans… And vice versa. He had offered an arrangment.

The rejection was expected.

He had dug a seed in the angel’s brain.

He spent some time in England, taking credit of every war, every bad moment. He ran into his “enemy” a couple of times, both of them talking peacefully, avoiding the arrangment’s subject but the latter still lingering.

Crowley kind of liked him.

Through all those years, the demon had learned not to get attached to humans. They were flies in his life. And it was painful to see some go too soon. So he distanced himself.

It felt nice to talk to someone who lived the same way as his.

He never thought he could like anyone.

He hated the fourteenth century.

First, in 1337, the Hundred Years’ war started in France. Of course he took credit. Such a huge thing… He had never thought it could last _this_ long though.

Then, the Black Death came along. He could feel the power of Death, even if he tried to get away. Four years that became one of the most praised actions by Hell he had claimed. That was the first time he had saved the angel. Working in a convent, in a town where thousands were killed, she had been seen as a witch. So he took her away, claiming to be a witchfinder. He made her change her appearance so she could work as a monk. That was the only time Crowley saw Aziraphale as a woman. He had learned his lesson too, in Golgotha. Being a female human, in those dark times, could be a real problem. They didn’t have rights… And it was getting worse every day.

Lastly, he saw the angel for the second time on May 30th 1431.

Joan of Arc’s death at the Stake.

She was still praying while dying.

His faith in humanity had sunken down further away.

He left without a goodbye, and slept for a couple of years. He had seen enough.

\-----------------------

When he saw Crowley had left, he couldn’t help but think about this arrangement. He did, every single day since the last millenia. He couldn’t bear the idea of seeing the demon hurt again. He needed friends… And someone to help him keep the strange faith he had.

It was really strange to see a demon with Faith… He could feel it. Hope. Care…

That was what drawn him towards the red haired celestial after all…

So he kept thinking, doing his little miracles to stay under Heaven’s good graces…

Maybe he could try.

\-----------------------

Then he went in what-would-be-called South America.

He always loved the civilization here. It was a rare treat to see them evolve in different groups, and yet use the same technology and ideas… Twisting them a bit.

He had learned to speak Nahuatl. Aztec’s language. It had been so useful.

He thought for some years that he could travel without feeling the European pressure…

How _wrong_ he was.

The Spanish came.

And they killed.

So he ran in the south to warn other civilizations. He stumbled across Incas…

And Cusco fell ten years later.

Humans did make his work much more easier… But it left a sour taste in his mouth.

Of course Hell was in love with his work up there. That was a true delight for their hungry eyes. A sad one for his dreamy mind.

Imagination never left him after all…

He thought about going in Asia.

Aziraphale had sent him a message. It was in 1601. He wanted the snake to come at the Globe. Shakespeare’s plays’ scene in Southbank.

He had seen one or two plays, but never found them really captivating.

But the angel never sent him anything. So he peaked in.

And what came next was as wonderful as if you saw a tree a thousand years after planting it.

The idea had been caught. And the arrangment began.

When he came back from Edinburgh, the celestial had offered him a seat to watch Hamlet. It had bored him, but seeing Aziraphale’s bright face as it went on was enough to satisfy him. After that, they had spent the whole night in a small inn, the angel teaching him how to read with a little miracle. Every word was moving on the book, so he could focus on them. He was a quick learned. Has always been. By dawn, he had been able to learn in four different languages. The angel loved keeping books from his travels.

It actually hurted when they parted ways.

That’s how he knew he was feeling something he shouldn’t feel.

And he couldn’t bear it.


	2. Winter and Lost (The Police – Murder by numbers / Ariana Grande - Boyfriend)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Through the 18th, 19th and first part of the 20th century, Crowley travelled a lot...   
How did they lived this part ?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No dialogue or barely any...   
Trigger warnings for mentions of depression and anxiety.  
Chapter 3 is starting to be written... And, don't worry, there will be more interactions !!!   
Yeah, I write like shit, I know.   
I should stick to one shots.

He had tried to avoid the stupid angel for some time now. It was stupid of him. He had walked around Russia, watching as the Empire came up since 1721. He had been impressed by the majesty Russia was slowly taking. He had been in good terms with Peter I the Great. Another very ambitious young man. They proliferated in this era… And even more in the next one. He had watched as Russia grew the third biggest empire ever created, and it had made him question the celestial sides again…

Why would there be only two sides, when humans clearly made an amazing show of the whole shading range in between ?

That’s when he had decided one huge point : he would be on _his_ side from now on. He knew he didn’t have to do a lot to please Hell. He would only do what he wanted.

Good or bad.

When the French Revolution started, it had acted like a huge bomb across Europe’s finest monarchs. Everyone was criticizing the strange small country that dared to go against God and give a try of having their own free will and democracy. People craved power.

So he went here.

He met Robespierre and Danton.

And watched as the rebellious cut every head of every single bourgeois that ended up against them. They had created one of the most effective weapons for that.

The _Guillotine_.

Another huge applause came from Under. He was in Lucifer’s good graces since a couple of years thanks to the humans… And had basically stopped caring about them.

The only exception that remained was children.

It would always be children.

In 1793, he felt something strange though. He felt _him_. He felt his distress. And anguish.

So he miracled his way in, dressed as a revolutionary.

Of course Aziraphale would look like a very rich man. He had _standards_ as he loved telling people… Well, as he loved telling Crowley. What a shame to let him discorporate… He wouldn’t see him very often if he did. So he saved him, even if the latter kept expressing how stupid he looked and threw him the death of dozens, hundreds of people to his face. And the angel did something no angel ever did in front of him since the First War.

Revenge.

And it doomed the executioner.

That’s when something snapped in him. Curiosity. He wanted to watch him, understand what made him stay as an angel. Why God didn’t made him fall ?

They went for some crepes.

The demon already knew his fellow opposite celestial was easily tempted by Gluttony. It didn’t help him grasp the reason he was still there. Though his lust for that platinium haired being grew stronger. He never knew why he felt something so powerful for his friend.

Well, they were friends after all…

He had watched as the other made delighted sounds while eating. Food had always tasted insipid since he fell. Alcohol was the only thing that had an effect on him. And opium, though he sworn he would never try it again. Tempting humans into being zombies was one thing, being one himself was completely the opposite.

As always, they had parted ways… This time, the angel offered him to come and visit him in London, as he was trying to live there. He refused the offer for now. Maybe another year…

\-----------------------

When Crowley had refused his offer, something in him stirred. He was sad. Not enough to cry, thankfully, but it hurted a bit. After almost two hundred years of friendship, he had hoped.

But the demon never said never… That was a small relief.

\-----------------------

Of course it wouldn’t work. Humans were never satisfied. Mostly when times were so unstable. He had seen, followed and stopped Napoleon the Ist’s attempts at conquering Europe and Russia. Then he was the witness of the July Revolution.

Monarchy trying his best to put sticks in each other’s wheels.

Throw a king to put another… Then see him thrown again eighteen years later.

He could admit one thing : Hell and Heaven were more tighly restrained than those French ones… Even if War was still on the menu, they were waiting for the Apocalypse to unfold it.

They would never dare to fight each other so openly before that date.

Crowley went in London, seeing Aziraphale’s new bookshop opening. It had surprised him at first… The angel loved his books far to much to sell them. But it was fun to watch. He bought a box of chocolates and some flowers to celebrate. Since his friend had French wine, it was only courtesy to do so. He had a fag in the right corner of his lips, top hat and a dark three-pieces suit over him, a thin pair of sunglasses hanging on the tip of his nose.

Then he felt it.

Angels.

Several angels were inside with _his_ angel.

He stayed outside, listening, careful not to let too much demonic smell around… But enough to startle those stupid ones to get in the way.

They wanted Aziraphale back, and gave him a medal of honor for his duties.

But the snake knew how much the angel loved Earth. So he played a trick.

When Gabriel and Sandalphon left, he miracled himself in a shop where the first one saw an interesting costume… Then played two characters, overdoing his behaviour so it would scare those stupid ones. When both left in a hurry, he knew it would be enough for this time. Proud of his work, he bought a tie as a reward. Then left the shop, leaving the seller confused on how he got inside…

\-----------------------

When Gabriel came back to talk to him, telling him he should stay down on Earth, a part of him was relieved when another part came asking himself what made him change his idea so suddenly… When Crowley came a couple of hours after they left, with a box of chocolates, a bouquet and some fresh oysters, his soul brightened up. If he had a heart like humans, it would have stopped. His demon had done this… A small miracle he couldn’t help but loved.

They smoked, ate, drank and laughed for the whole night, enjoying their time on this crazy planet and catching on whatever happened to them those last years. They celebrated the bookshop, Aziraphale feeling happy the snake did came after all…

They were really drunk in the end. Too drunk for Crowley to stay awake. So he had fallen asleep on his lap, on the sofa, while he was reading out loud “The last of the Mohicans” by James Fenimore Cooper. He had it signed by the author himself. He was really sad when he finished it, one of his hands stroking the demon’s hair as comfort. The latter was shifting to get closer to him while he was in Opheus’ arms.

When the sun came, the angel moved to take care of some books in the shop. When he moved to the back to see how his demon was coping, he was gone. A small sigh escaped his lips. He hoped to see him again sooner than before. His presence was really helping. He miracled some pennies for a poor child running in the streets in front of his shop, his expression softening as he saw how delighted the latter was. He could give this for his friend…

\-----------------------

I was early 1862. He was starting to worry. Of course he still was nicely acknoledged by Below, but something told him that it wasn’t going to last for long… They did went up from to time to time, doing some temptings… And a small soul-taken competition had started. He was worried they would end up knowing about their arrangment… And if he could avoid the fall of his angel in the process of saving his ass, that was a bonus. He never wished for anyone to live what he lived. So he asked his friend to come over… A small favor that would allow him to save everyone some time and pain. And it would only be right for the angel to accept since he had saved his life countless times now, wouldn’t it ?

So he asked him to come at the park, a small note in his hands.

His favor.

Crowley expected the surprise… Not the wave of sadness, anguish and care that radiated from the other being… An angel wasn’t supposed to feel worry… And a demon shouldn’t feel when someone cared. So that was quite a shock…

The way the other being had seen their relationship was painful. He kept rejecting him, even if the fact they were friends was more than obvious… He wouldn’t allow it.

So he bit back.

And that made the celestial run away, throwing his small task away.

Maybe it was time to leave Europe for some years, wasn’t it ?

So he went back in Asia. He went to China, ending up right in the middle of the Taiping Rebellion. Christianity fighting, millions of lives taken. He wasn’t surprised anymore. And 20 millions souls was an amazing bet on Hell’s desk. Death wins against everything. He went away as the wars came to an end and that Chinese Era was slowly coming to an end, and moved to Japan.

It was amazing how such a small country could move faster than anyone could think. The end of the Edo era wasn’t that surprising. Western countries did want their hands over Asia. It would definitely be a powerful area in the next centuries. He stayed during the Meiji Era, watching as the Boshin War showed where the real power came, then took credit for every fight that followed. The Emperor wanted Japan to be a modern nation. So they changed their laws, went on for wars of conquest and wars against China.

Then the west wind blew.

Radical Socialists came under the light.

It was time to move.

He went through Russia as communism was on the rise.

And ended up in Europe as the First World War sparked.

Felt like War was following his steps too closely for his own taste.

\-----------------------

Aziraphale was really happy to see Crowley again. It seemed like they were friends…

He truly, deeply wanted to share a good moment.

He had never expected his wish.

And it was painful.

He had tried everything to protect the demon against Heaven. He had done everything he could to make him happy and safe…

And now he wanted to commit suicide ? And make him a part of it ?

He wasn’t a killer. And he would never kill his friend. So he had refused.

The way they had parted ways was really painful. He had never wished for them to end up like this. So he went to the small house the demon owned in North West London, hoping to patch things up and have a proper explanation.

His friend had left.

And he was alone.

His soul hurted.

He went back to his bookshop, reading, taking care of his things, hoping.

Hoping the demon would never do something stupid.

Then he met Oscar Wilde.

He had really liked him. A very interesting man… A scandalous one too, but who was he to blame someone for sharing his love with humans… Genders were one of the stupidest things that had happened to humanity.

\-----------------------

The First World War was raging like fire.

Germans wanted to get in.

French knew about it.

Verdun. 1916.

Crowley had been there at the wrong place, wrong time. Sent on the front line, in the middle of those stupid trenches, bombshells falling like rain, men screaming, shaking, crying… Dying.

It wasn’t such a bad thing, since most of the original volunteers would go to Hell. He took the credit once again.

It was one thing to see it… Completely the opposite to _live_ it.

His round helmet over his short red hair, a rifle with a knife at the edge in his hands, he was running in those stupid protections made of clay. He needed to find a place where he could miracle himself away. It kept getting worse by the minute. Men that were sent on the no man’s land rarely made it halfway. Blood and limbs sometimes reached them.

He truly, deeply hated humans at this time.

As he spotted a small place, one of the highest ranked man in the trench grabbed him and threw him over the mound, shouting at him to fight for his country.

If the fool _knew_.

He could have killed him… But he thought better of it.

A minor demonic miracle, and he made his way in a hole made by one of those bombshells.

He had to leave.

A poor boy was standing there, in shock.

He wasn’t old. Nineteen maybe…

After a sigh, he snapped them both near a hospital. Then made him get in for injuries.

And disappeared before any of the medics could call a higher authority for his cowardice.

He wasn’t a coward. He had only seen too much for his sake.

He had to leave.

\-----------------------

Aziraphale had been taken aback by the sudden appearance of the demon in his bookshop.

Covered in mud and dust, a rifle in his hand, dressed as a soldier.

The snake could barely speak nor move. The angel had to reassure him…

It was the second time he would give an intimate touch to the other celestial by hugging him. He had cleaned his face, miracled away all the stains and dirt away, and offered him some casual clothes… And let him lay on his lap while reading some Oscar Wilde. “The Canterville ghost”. Then he followed by “Moby Dick” from Herman Melville. He had talked about Wilde, about his last years with happiness and melancholia. After a couple of days spending his time without saying a word, the demon had left, leaving a small note on the sofa, while the angel was in his bookshop.

‘_Bless you_’

\-----------------------

The demon had learned to keep his mind away from conflicts. And humans. He tried to run away from everything related to them, still sending his miraculous reports about how many people were killed in World War I…

He had spent some time in America, meeting Charlie Chaplin, watching the rise of the far-right and nazis in Europe… As the Communist / Capitalist clash started slowly.

He was in New York when Hitler started his campaign… Political and economical crisis was on its way.

It was time to go back in Europe after all.

So he did. In England, as the first countries fell under the hands of one of the biggest killers in the world, he trained as a spy. Best English spy. It would make James Bond blush… Even if that character wouldn’t be created until years later. Pretty fun all things considered. He was on the side of the “good guys” while claiming the “bad guys”’ work. Miracling and tempting at its finest… Even if he wasn’t happy with the events.

He made his name. Anthony J. Crowley. The man who never missed a target, the man who never forgot, the man who was too lucky for his own good.

He could have killed Hitler… But where would be the fun in that ? Watching the humans fight for the “greater good” while most of them closed their eyes under the sight of those killings…

No one knew.

That made him snicker.

He had helped dozens of resistants to get a safe passage and be able to work inside.

He had seen thousands of innocents being taken away… And he knew it was a Death road.

It was easier to name a group of people for all the ills of the world than to look at your own face after all…

Then, one day, in 1941, he heard about a nazi meeting inside London.

All the bombings were stopped for the night. It must have been important.

So, in his Bentley, he followed the two men with their case…

In a church.

That was a strange place to have such a meeting. And he couldn’t act against it.

Then he saw _him_.

The angel.

_His_ angel.

With books.

Getting in.

_What a stupid motherf…_

Then the woman followed next.

He knew she was with the nazis.

_For __Hea… He… Someone’s__ sake_.

He went out of the Bentley, then sneaked in the Holy place.

He knew it would burn. He never really knew how much it would hurt him.

As he danced his way around, he made a threat.

Then the church was gone. As their enemies were.

He had saved the angel’s books. He knew how much he loved them. And, something inside him made him understand he wouldn’t think of saving them. So he did. Then he went back to his Bentley, offering his friend a lift home.

\-----------------------

When he saw the demon in, Aziraphale had been in shock. Of course he would be. No demon would go through so much pain to see him. Even less to save an angel. He had tried to play it cool, but he was screaming inside. Something was pulling him towards the demon. He needed his presence. He found it comforting. Mostly since he did his best saving them.

The thing that made it click was the books.

He knew he felt something strong for his friend.

That was the first time he had been able to name it.

In the ride back to the bookshop, Crowley had talked about his spy job. The angel couldn’t say a single word, so he let him speak. If demons could sense good feelings, he would have drown in them.

The celestial had offered the snake a drink, which he gladly took. They had talked about the Aztecs, the Egyptians, remembering all the good bits of their lives.

Then, as the sun woke, the demon had bid him a good day.

It was too good to be true.

\-----------------------

Crowley had seen Aziraphale twice since the end of World War II. The first time, in was in 1952. The angel had bought one book he offered to read. The demon wasn’t much a reader… But he did enjoyed hearing the angel’s soothing voice. His book choice was “East of Eden”. It had been written by a man called John Steinbeck. Pretty strange story. It had kicked in a bit too easily.

The second time was in 1962. He had met him in a place he would never have guessed his friend could be. A Nightclub on the Reeperbahn in St Pauli. The Beatles were performing there that night. The angel had mixed sentiments towards this new music… Still nicer than bebop though. It had made the demon laugh.

He didn’t laugh very often.

He was in London, in Soho more precisely. It was in 1967. He had an idea. His need of Holy Water as insurance grew stronger… Hell was getting a bit agitated, and he needed to find a strong plan. He needed to get to Vietnam as soon as possible, knowing how dirty this war was getting, but he needed to have a backup plan. And there was no asking to the angel anymore. So he created a team. The Bentley had been behaving strangely since that team had been contacted, the engine stopping around Soho.

He did manage to drive her to the place he was supposed to meet his thieves.

Sergeant Shadwell had offered him his witchfinder services. Not very interesting at the moment, but it had to be taken under consideration. He never knew what kind of person Hell could send against him.

He had been startled when he felt, smelled then saw the angel’s presence in his car. He knew his bookshop was around, but he never thought he would _spy_ on him.

“_I hear things_.”

He knew the angel would never change his mind. They hadn’t spoken about it since 105 years, but he knew his friend by heart. Was he trying to stop him ?

When the tartan hydroflask was handed to him, his brain stopped working for a second, feelings hitting him right in the guts.

He had done it. He had respected his request and idea.

He offered him a ride. Anywhere.

The demon didn’t know what to give for his effort. He wanted to show him Alpha Centauri. He wanted to talk about the stars again. He wanted to share anything.

“_You go too fast for me Crowley._”

This had stung far more he would ever admit.

He cared for the celestial. He wanted him by his side… To reassure him, to hold him… He craved any kind of contact. And the rejection was hard.

When his friend left him, he sat alone in the Bentley, the hydroflask still in his hands, a slight frown on his face…

He wanted to cry, but his eyes stayed dry.

He wanted to shout, but nothing came out.

He wanted to love.

But he was alone now.

_Lost_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for getting through this.   
I'm sorry for the lack of dialogues through those two first chapters.


	3. Spring and Lust (Zella DAY – East of Eden Matstubs Remix / Still Woozy – Goodie Bag)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Crowley's trying to deal with his feelings towards the angel while living one of the most sensitive part of his life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So here it comes.   
Crowley POV only this time... I think you'll understand why.   
AND FUCKING SMUT WARNING.   
As I can't use HTML - I'm too lazy to do so - you'll find the footnotes at the end.   
I haven't started chapter 4. I'll take my time writing it, maybe cutting it in half if needed. Job starts Friday, and I have loads of things to do. I hope it won't be too long...   
Hope you'll enjoy it !!!

Crowley had enough. He needed to get out of London as quick as possible. So he did. Going to Asia was the first idea he had. He needed to see how that war went. Maybe do one or two temptations there too. He went there as an american soldier. He had learned pretty quickly that first rows may allow him more souls than back rows. It wasn’t the first time he held a weapon, nor he wore a whole soldier suit. The heat was a real relief for his snake abilities.

They had sent him in Saigon, to follow a regiment in the occupied part.

Creating political parties may have been humanity’s greatest mistake in the 20th century.

Good for Hell though.

His Bentley had been left in London… He didn’t wanted to dirty it. He carried very few things in a bag : a clean suit, a sleeping bag, a hydroflask for good measure, and a radio. He loved listening to music, mostly since they had hired Adrian Cronauer’s services as a DJ. [1] He didn’t really needed men to teach him about music, but this one made him discover new ones. And he tried his best to make true reports, even if the top never really liked it.

It was January 30th.

2:45 am.

He was drifting in a kind of sleep. He didn’t needed to… No demons nor angels did. But he liked it. It soothed him.

That’s when the first part of the attack came. The US Embassy was threatened.

Soldiers were called around.

They had to fight.

So he moved with them.

He knocked down the first Viet Cong he met. Miracles really helped when such a problematic situation ended up in his hands. As he moved in the middle of the battle, trying to protect civilians that were around, woke by the sound of guns and explosions, he realized how young the fighters became since the beginning of that awful war.

That’s when he ended up, face to face, with a boy.

He must have been fifteen.

He looked lost.

And scared.

Crowley hesitated. He couldn’t face a kid. He couldn’t kill a kid. So he knocked him down.

Then he miracled both of them away from the battle.

He had learned how to speak Vietnamese. That was the least he could do to interact nicely when such tense times unfolded. That was what surprised the people from the village when he came in with the boy in his arms, still knocked out.

He had left him under the care of an old woman. Her daughter offered him to stay, as he was the first caucasian to be that nice to them. The kind word made him wince, but he didn’t found the strength to reply her. He had walked a lot through the woods and was exhausted. They treated him with the nicest meal they could do and a bed, on which he slept gladly.

The woman woke him two days after, worried he would have become sick. Then she led him to the main room, where all the civilians of that small town waited for him. The young boy was here too, looking at him with a mix of happiness and mistrust. He had been an enemy when he had first faced him after all…

They made him sit, then questionned his motives. VC weren’t very nicely viewed by south vietnameses and americans. He had answered them he made his best sparring the lives of people that encountered him… Mostly if they were still children. He couldn’t bear the death of a kid, no matter how old he was, he was still a child.

The oldest and wisest offered him to stay if he helped. He would be safer here than in the middle of Saigon, where the Tet Offensive had taken place.

He answered them that he could face what he did, and they already had been kind.

Then he left the small village by night.

He still had a job to do.

He spent the next weeks in his snake form, watching as the viet congs lost the battle of Saigon, reporting the death toll to Head Office.

It was always nice to anticipate their needs and get rewards even if he did nothing.

He wondered if God had planned all those wars… If _She_ knew how humans could be cruel.

He left Vietnam in December 1968, when Operation Speedy Express started. It had been created to prevent Viet Congs to interfere with pacification efforts.

That meant more deaths.

He went to the United States.

Seeing the hippies’ movment had been one of his favourite times. He got to wear long hair again without getting side looks, and have some fun. Even if some days were dark, mostly when the country tried to silence the protesters and peace lovers, it had been fun. People giving in to temptations so easily it looked like Christmas in advance.

Of course he went to Woodstock. Seeing such wonderful artists live made him cherish his life here on Earth. Humans were so inventive.

He saw the huge traffic jam to get there.

How people were downright angry…

And that’s when his biggest idea came up.

An idea that would last centuries and give millions of souls to Hell.

A motorway around London.

When he reached the secretary of London’s traffic in 1971, he offered them the idea. Then with some demonic miracles, computer hacks and his own presence, the M25 would look like, when it will open in 1975, like the dread sigil Odegra that meant “Hail the Great Beast devourer of worlds”.

When he explained his plan to the Princes, he definitely wanted to hear a _Wahoo_.

He knew this action was big enough for Hell to leave him alone for some years.

He could see his angel without much trouble now.

He wasn’t expecting his bookshop would be closed for “an indefinite amout of time”.

His happiness faltered.

His angel was the only one he wanted to share this moment with.

He had no one else.

Two months later, Crowley was sitting in a crowded bar in Central London, drinking scotch. He needed to get some fun… Maybe one or two temptations wouldn’t be too much. Some background music was playing. Aretha Franklin. _Respect_. He wouldn’t have thought of a better word and a better song to express his feelings that day.

That’s when a young man came to him.

Medium sized haircut. Dark brown eyes. And indian features. He seemed a bit out of this world to the demon’s eyes. He raised an eyebrow at the man, a spark of interest coming.

“Hello. Mind if I sit here ? There’s not a single available seat left.” The demon shrugged then downed his glass, ordering two drinks. Maybe he could try Lust… He hadn’t practiced much himself since the Roman Era. And the boy seemed interested. When the bartender came back with both drinks, he pushed one towards the newcomer, surprising him. “Thanks.” He paused, a bit uncertain, then smiled. “Do you often buy drinks to people you’ve barely met ?”

“Only if they are people of interest.” His drinking neighbor blushed a bit. Nailed it. He could be interested by him. “What such a creature like you do in that kind of stupid place ?”

“I could return you the question.” _Sassy_. Something he really enjoyed. It could be fun.

“Laughing at all those stupid assholes mainly.” This made the other laugh a lot. He liked his laugh. Wholehearted. “You didn’t answered.”

“Enjoying the music and the people. Loneliness isn’t always a good thing.”

“Seems like you’ve found a buddy pretty quickly.” The man’s smile was bright.

“My name’s Freddie.” He offered his hand. The snake smirked, took it and kissed the knuckles there.

“And I’m Crowley.” The touch had sparked a huge wave of Lust from his drinking buddy. “Nice to meet you.”

“… Likewise.”

Freddie didn’t talked for a couple of minutes, staring intensely at the demon, which made the latter laugh internally. This young man had trouble embracing the idea he was attracted to men apparently… Or he wasn’t used to such demonstrations in public. The snake was the one who broke the silence, doing casual talk to reassure the one he offered a drink to. He was a singer. He wondered how high he could sing. Freddie didn’t wanted to bother the people in the pub, so they went out for a stroll. That’s when he sung…

It was the most beautiful male voice Crowley had ever heard.

He offered Freddie to have a drink at his flat. It wasn’t far and he had enough liquors for the whole century. The singer accepted, and they walked arms locked into each other’s. That was nice to be able to talk and laugh with someone else… To hang out.

When they got in his minimalistic place, Freddie sat on the couch while the demon took a pair of glasses and a couple of bottles from his kitchen. As the latter sat down, the singer explained to him how difficult it was for them to find someone who accepted to record them and publish them. He was struggling a bit with his band, even if he knew deeply how renowned they could be if someone did the first step. The snake learned the name of his band was “Queen”. Quite fitting for such a man.

As bottles were emptied, both beings started to be more at ease with each other.

That’s when Crowley kissed him.

Freddie kissed back.

As the demon pushed the human under him, on his couch, he felt Lust slowly getting away.

Then the human put a hand on his torso to stop him.

He looked at the singer, a frown on his face.

“What’sssss wrong ? Thought you… Wanted…” The man’s stare was soft.

“Y… You love… Someone else. Would be wrong.”

The snake sat on his heels, dumbfounded.

_What the fuck ? How… _

“I… I can feel it.” Freddie sat on his side, a small smile on his lips. “I can feel… You like me… But there’s no love for me. Your heart… Belongs to someone else.”

“W… w… We don’t need _love_… To _fuck_… Right ?”

“… No. But I won’t… _Fuck_… Someone that loves someone else.”

They were both drunk. Well, Crowley was far drunker than Freddie. He could feel the singer hadn’t drink that much now. Running a distressed hand in his hair, he started shaking. The human took his wrist and held him tight.

“Don’t… Don’t blame yourself. You did nothing wrong. I… I could just _see_ it. And… And I couldn’t bear the idea of… Not helping. That wouldn’t have helped you.”

The soothing voice of the singer and his physical hold made him calm down bit by bit. No human had done this in the past. Some had been nice, but no human had been _that_ nice.

When Freddie backed away to give a proper look to his drinking buddy, the latter couldn’t bring to look at him in the eye… Even through his sunglasses. The singer sat in front of him, a hand lingering on his arm for support.

“Why do you keep those sunglasses ?” Crowley sighed.

“… Light sensitive.” Freddie nodded. He waited a bit to see if the snake would say a word before speaking again.

“What’s his name ?” The demon frowned. “The one you love.”

“… Aziraphale.” The singer smiled again.

“Wonderful name.” Crowley nodded. “Since… You’ve invited me and tried it… Do you mind explaining to me what happened with him ?”

The snake hesitated, but the human was really nice. He did owe him an explanation. So he sat comfortably and told him their story… Making it look human not to frighten him. They talked for hours about relationships and love… And music.

In the end, they had stayed up all night, laughing, recollecting memories and telling their stories. The sun was pretty high in the sky when Freddie stood up.

“I have an appointment in an hour. Another manager to see. I’m sorry.” He wrote down something on a small piece of paper and handed it over to the demon. “Those are the ways you can contact me. I’d love to keep in touch. You’re a wonderful guy, and it would be a loss not to count you in my friends darling.”

Crowley didn’t know what to say. He never did. He walked him back to his front door, wishing him luck.

Then he prayed for the first time in 6 000 years.

And Queen had started their road of success.

Freddie deserved it.

He had bought the latest TV he could find. Being easily bored with old technology, he wanted to have the best stuff. Crowley was a demon of Earth’s time, far more advanced than any celestial he knew on that matter, demons or angels. Aziraphale didn’t returned to his bookshop. At first, he had worried. Now he was on another level. He barely went out, watching the television all the time. The only person he ever talked to was Freddie Mercury. They had formed a strong bond together. The latter had told him the final of the 1972’s Champion’s League was being broadcasted this night. He wasn’t much interested by football… Or any sport really. But he had nothing else to watch nor do yet.

Derby County against Liverpool.

It was pretty boring, but also a bit of fun watching those humans running after a ball…

They looked like dogs.

Their assistant manager, Peter Taylor, was in the gallery. An old, small and fat man. But their manager wasn’t there to watch them.

They won the match 1 – 0.

That’s when their manager appeared, radiating with joy.

He was called Brian Clough.

He had straight hair plastered backwards on his head, pretty short. He looked debauched. [2]

Then they showed his face.

And it was a true shock.

Crowley grabbed some clothes and jumped in his Bentley.

He had followed Clough for a couple of months, watching as he went back from Derby County’s headquarters to his home where he had two sons and a wife. He had lost weight too. It hurted him that Aziraphale would do that to him… He never thought the angel would be keen to try having a human family and been keen to sports. He never had mentioned this wish.

He needed to have a word with him. But his demonic part, frustrated, hurt and angry, didn’t wanted it to go too smoothly and nicely. He was jealous.

So he learned how to play football. All the rules. And made his way inside.

He had dyed his hair black and had embraced the familiar straight hair plastered backwards haircut, cutting it for the first time since 1968.

He learned pretty quickly that the manager despised Leeds United and even more their current manager. So he played a small part on Don Revie’s promotion to England’s international football team manager in 1974. And, as the new assistant manager of Liverpool, he made sure Clough’s name would come on the table.

Then he waited patiently as the matches began.

He knew that his team would play against Leeds first. His players loved him. He showed them every trick, taught them everything to beat that huge team. All he had to do was to wait for the Day the exchange would begin.

Then he would face Aziraphale.

His excitement had reached its peak. It could blow at any moment. The rush of adrenaline, both from the match – because no matter what, he had became fond of his players - and the completion of two years plotting to get back to his angel, was intoxicating and so nice. He knew what to do, when to do it… And he would finally show what he felt.

He warmed up his overexcited team while waiting for the signal to lauch his players on the field. His booming voice shouting praises and cheers resonated, his men answering him as cheerfully as they could. He was proud. And if they won, he would be even prouder. He was a show off, an entertainer at its best after all…

They were waiting in the corridor. Leeds came first. The most powerful team always came first. He looked at them, his thoughts running in his head in turmoil.

Then the signal went.

All his boys ran on the grass, every single one earning a slap on their back as they did.

Then he moved towards the managers’ box.

He had to wait until the second part of the game. That’s when his adversary would hide, too worried to watch.

Forty five minutes of running after a ball.

He had forgotten how dull it could be as he had trained them. It was one thing to teach, another to watch. He needed action.

The arbiter whistled the end of the first part.

He only had to cheer up his team again, throw them back on the battlefield, then he could make his next move.

The other manager had watched the field… Sending side glances to the demon. He was too dragged by the game to show another emotion than anxiety. Crowley wanted more.

Five minutes left until the second part.

His boys were doing great.

He cheered them again.

Then sent them back.

It was time.

He knocked on the door before getting inside. The office was situated right under Leeds supporters’ benches. His anger came back when he saw his opponent, smoking a cigarette, sitting on a chair, trying to calm himself down. He shut the door and locked it behind him before facing the other being with a neutral face.

“Leeds may be your worst career choice.” As the other manager didn’t reply, he continued. “You hate them, they hate you. You hated their last manager, which was their best one since years… And you think they will love you ?”

“They _will_.”

The other being’s voice startled a bit the demon, but he kept his composture. His angel would never talk like that. “You know you’re going to loose this game.”

“I won’t. They are the best players in England.” He couldn’t recognize the smell of the celestial he knew. And he didn’t wore contact glasses. No celestial could change their eyes’ color. A slight frown appeared on his face.

“If you say so.” The man faced him with a devilish smile on his lips.

“Are you trying to intimidate me ? Because I’ve lived far worse.” The snake was confused by now. Completely and thoroughly lost. It wasn’t his angel.

“We’ve never met before, have we ?” This question made the other manager laugh.

“I would remember seeing such a prick before.”

A groan escaped the demon’s lips. He had been fooled.

A shout from Liverpool’s supporters snapped him back to reality.

“I didn’t try to intimidate you. That’s the truth.”

“You’re new to this. _Try me_.”

Crowley was about to leave on this comment when a wave of Lust hit him. It strong. Too strong to move away. He turned back to Clough who was now standing on the other side of the empty table, defiant and hungry eyes on him.

He had imagined this meeting a thousand of different ways. He had never thought it would turn like this.

Buried feelings surfaced.

He moved threateningly towards the human.

“Are you sure ? Two can play this game… And only one wins.” A full toothed dark grin defied him.

“I am _definitely_ sure I will win.”

Crowley caught the man by his collar, pushing him hard against the wall, then closed the gap between them, his lips crashing against the other’s. That move elicited a deep groan from both beings, both fighting for dominance.

But a demon was always more powerful than a human.

As the snake was devouring the manager’s throat, making him loose composture, he turned him with a quick movement, making him face the wall, before getting back to his ministrations. Not a word was spoken as he made an _effort_, then unbuckled unceremoniously the man’s belt and threw his trousers down on the ground, exposing the human’s back.

Miracling a small amount of lube, he teased his entrance with a finger, the other hand around Brian’s erected cock, slightly stroking him, his mouth sucking several sensitive spots on his neck. As the second finger got in, the man literally shouted from pleasure. A chuckle escaped the demon’s lips. The lust radiating from the human was so powerful it was maddening. After putting a third finger in, opening him enough to get in, he withdrawed his hands from every place they were to hold the sassy and sinful human by the shoulders, bending him over the table.

Then he aligned himself and, with a single harsh thrust, got inside.

Unable to do anything, Brian braced himself on the new surface, holding the edges as he could, savouring every thrust in and out that was vigorously executed. Soon enough, the sounds of skin slapping against skin was covered by the moans of both beings, taking a different kind of pleasure from this exchange.

Clough was the first to come, shots covering parts of the table he was fucked on.

Then Crowley followed, filling the human, head thrown back in pure bliss.

This had been a long time indeed.

The demon sat on the empty chair, his dazed stare looking at his work that was still trying to recover on the surface he had left him on, satisfaction getting through him as he had managed to wipe off the manager’s attitude through this session.

He proceeded to clean himself using a clean towel that was hanging in the corner of the room… A miracle in front of a human, even if he wasn’t paying attention, was too dangerous. Then he put back his trousers, a snap of fingers making him agendered again, even if he had a male body, straightening his tie, and left the towel next to Clough. Another shout from his supporters made him smile.

“I won.”

Then he exited, leaving a lost human inside, a devilish smile on his lips.

Of course the demon had been right. Clough had been sacked after 44 days on the job. It had made the news for some weeks. Maybe this lesson would teach him humility. In 1975, Nottingham Forest had a new manager and new assitant manager : the old team Clough and Taylor was back. The snake had a strange feeling about this one. And when this manager called him a couple of weeks later, it was to ask if they could see each other again.

Crowley refused.

Two years later, in 1977, Freddie had offered him to come see a huge concert he was performing. The demon had declined, as he had to train the Wolverhampton Wanderers. He was their new manager. The singer had been amazed by his involvement on the football scene.

Around 1978, the snake kept a close eye on the bookshop, cleaning the dust on the old books his friend so dearly loved and had left for years. He had a feeling they would meet again.

Not the way he wanted though.

In 1980, he pushed his team in the Football League Cup. They had to play against Nottingham Forest. That could be an interesting match…

Clough had offered him to talk in the office.

Crowley had won the battle again.

Then the human had asked if they could avoid each other’s path in the future.

The demon had agreed.

It was a relief for him.

Freddie had came to his flat unannounced. His friend never did that. He offered him to seat on the sofa they first talked on fourteen years ago. They hadn’t seen each other very often, because of the manager job he had for a couple of years combined with the past relationship the human had and was very toxic. The singer seemed agitated. The snake came back with two glasses of red wine, trying to make the man comfortable. He needed to talk.

“What do you want to tell then ?” The human hesitated before breaking the tense silence.

“Can you promise me that you won’t tell anyone about it ?” Demons never promised anything… But he could make an exception, couldn’t he ? So he promised. “I have AIDS.”

The name of the disease was a shock. Of course he had heard of it. He knew _who_ created it. Something no human could cure. It was so strong even a miracle had little effects on it.

Even if he couldn’t save him, he could take care of his friend.

So he did.

Spending time with him and his new boyfriend, enjoying the time left, using small miracles to ease the pain.

In 1985, Freddie wanted to play for Live Aid. So Crowley contacted all the former members of his band.

This was a true masterpiece. One of the best concerts of Queen.

The snake was glad he had been able to see his friend perform this time.

The singer’s health was deteriorating. So he played one last time in 1986. Another amazing show. The demon had hoped his angel would be back to watch it. He wasn’t. So he went alone, trying to enjoy the moment as he knew time was ticking.

In November 1990 he tried to make an angelic miracle to save Freddie, using a portal.

This earned him a painful wound.

Aziraphale healed him as much as he could.

The simple idea his best friend came back when he was in danger made the demon hopeful.

He asked him to come meet a friend of his.

When the angel had left, Freddie had asked him one favor : to tell him how he felt.

The demon promised.

November 24th 1991.

Of course he felt it coming. They both did. That’s why they did so much stuff to prepare for the end. The end of the singer’s collaboration inside his band, the end of his concerts and life work.

The end of the nicest and strongest relationship the demon ever had with a human.

So Crowley stayed, even if his friend couldn’t see him anymore. He had helped him talk about his illness and make the official statement two days prior. They had laughed and recollected memories. Then Freddie had asked him to get a bottle of Cabernet-Sauvignon. The snake knew why he did it. A part of him didn’t wanted to leave.

“Don’t die until I come back.”

The singer had died when he was down the stairs, the new bottle in his hand.

He never said goodbye. But the human had made his wish.

He had waited.

And that was worth all the goodbyes in the world.

The Bentley had played “You’re my best friend” on his ride home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [1] Yep, I know, Cronauer DJ’d in Saigon from 1965 to 1966… But I didn’t found anyone else who did so and needed some Good Morning Vietnam’s vibes going on there… Sorry for that inaccuracy, and I hope you won’t kill me for that… If you find anyone else who did so in 1968, I’ll be more than glad to have some info and be able to change it to make it accurate. ;)
> 
> [2] I’ve TOTALLY used Michael Sheen’s portrayal of Clough and Timothy Spall’s portrayal of Taylor as references instead of those men’s real faces. An idea completely inspired by this wonderful video made by Xelloss that you SHOULD watch : https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2Yk0D8fnWI8


	4. Summer and Love (Papooz – Ann wants to dance / Caravan Palace - Melancolia)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A bit more times goes on as words start to fill in the blanks in their feels.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Right, so, I've thought about this for a while... And didn't know how to finish it. Then I've worked it all out and realized one last chapter wouldn't be enough. No smut in this one, a bit of a build up that will be resolved in the fifth and last chapter. I really wanted to include more History in this, then I had a proper ending in my mind. I hope you'll like it.

Crowley hadn’t been in his flat for the three last years, nor anywhere else in London. Aziraphale had done his best to find him… The demon never left without a message. 

Of course he understood his friend’s grief over the singer’s death… But he thought that, somehow, he would have been the one to hold him and warm his heart, even after his own disappearance for twenty five years… He was an _angel_. Angels felt stronger emotions. They didn’t deal with them like demons. And he had had a huge assignment from above that required his presence during that time without being detected. He had to protect people…

He couldn’t explain to his demon what it was about when they first saw each other in London. But now was the time he could share it with him. So he wrote him a letter, leaving a copy on the doorstep of the demon’s new flat in Mayfair and the original on his bookshop’s door, asking him to come in Pretoria as soon as he could.

Then he left London again, knowing it wouldn’t be for a long this time. It was early December 1993.

Nelson had requested his presence while talks were on the way. He needed to have the angel by his side, knowing how powerful the peaceful aura of the celestial was even if he never knew what he truly was… He had nicknamed him “the Messiah”. This had made Aziraphale a bit nervous, having met all Earth’s “true messiahs” in the past, but he was getting used to it. Mandela was one of the wisest men he had met. A troublesome one at first that grew to be a powerful peace representative in the World. When the angel had reached South Africa, the Nobel Peace Prize had been awarded to the man and Frederik Willem de Klerk, a white conservative politician that helped Nelson dismantling the apartheid… Thanks to a little push made by the angel himself. No one would ever have thought a man like this president would take such a U-turn in his beliefs. He would never had done it without a bit of faith and respect instilled in him.

When he joined his south african friend, they had hugged, happiness blossoming between the two beings. This had only been five years, but so many changes had taken place. Of course there had been killings and fights around the country, but de Klerk had introduced universal suffrage, offering the possibility for all humans to vote. A revolution. Mandela was preparing his involvement in 1994’s elections. This was why he had needed the angel’s help. He needed to reach people and make sure his project was feasible.

“Congratulations on your Nobel Prize. You should have gotten it since a long time.”

“Thank you. The Prize is only a title, but seeing that this fight had been followed closely on the world’s political stage is a real relief. Politicians start to help us breathe and free ourselves.”

“I can’t wait to see what comes next ! It will be a huge delight to see people rejoice without caring about their skin color !” Nelson had laughed.

“You are so optimistic. That’s a good thing. But you have to understand that’s only the start. Racism doesn’t stop only because laws and politics change their sides. People that follow my work aren’t always the people you would like them to be. The fight isn’t over. But we have a huge advantage compared to those people that will go against us no matter what : we can act in a peaceful way. Peace and freedom are the best weapons of all.”

Humans kept amazing him, even after 6 000 years roaming around the globe. This man was a true diamond to the celestial’s eyes. Meeting them was the closest he could be to God’s will.

Deep down, he _knew_ Crowley was also a piece of that puzzle that angels kept trying to read.

The old man and the angel had worked on the new election. Writing down his speeches, practicing dialogues, and trying to reach as many people as they could.

April 27th 1994 was soon under their grasp.

The day everything could change.

20 million people came to vote.

Some rural areas had trouble organizing the voting, so an extra day had been given.

Everyone was standing on the edge of their seats as people counted the votes. Nelson had been restless, doubt starting to rise.

Aziraphale had tried to calm him down, saying his people were “free at last”, that he should worry anymore.

The south african’s new constitution specified this country as a democratic one as people went to vote.

On May 8th 1994, around mid-day, Crowley had gone in Pretoria. The angel had been so delighted to see he did come for him. He introduced the demon to Nelson, narrating his past twenty eight years in this divided country, explaining his assignment, and proudly showing the results. The night had fallen when Aziraphale had finished his story. They were laying on their backs in Mandela’s garden, looking at the stars free from any clouds, the moon being the only light bright enough left to allow them to look at their faces.

“So, that’s what you’ve been up to when you left ?”

“Indeed.” A moment of silence fell between them. One of the rare ones since the beginning of the day… Even if they could still heard the sounds of car engines in the distance.

“Why didn’t you left a note ?” The angel’s expression saddened a bit. The snake’s voice had broke slightly at the end. How stupid was he to think his disappearance didn’t hurted his friend…

“I… I couldn’t. Head Office had specified it was a secret work. If I had… They would have found you. Found out about…” He paused. He didn’t know which word to use. It was friendship. But it felt more than friendship. And yet, he didn’t know if the demon saw it that way…

“Our _arrangment_ ?” The word had stung. It rang false in his head.

“Exactly. And if they did… What could they have done to me ? To _you_ ?”

They stayed in silence, the question left unanswered. They both knew their sides didn’t really liked unusual encounters… And they already knew how badly they could act when they were upset… Better not attract their wrath.

“… What have you been up to… Those last years ? You didn’t told me what you did since… Since I left… Except from Freddie of course.” He felt the demon shift uncomfortably next to him.

“Not much… Keeping an eye on the Vietnam War… This earned me a couple of years of freedom… Then watching the other side. Jimi Hendrix was truly the best guitarist I’ve ever met. I came back to Europe pretty quickly, enjoying the new music wave, designing the M25… Another outstanding job performance for Hell.”

“Wait… You made Vietnam War ?” The snake groaned.

“No. I didn’t. Humans threw it upon themselves. They don’t really need any demonic intervention to do that kind of horror, believe me.” The celestial sighed.

“And what did you do after creating that terrible motorway ?” Crowley chuckled. His soul brightened a bit under the pleasant sound his friend elicited.

“Well… I met Freddie Mercury. We exchanged some letters and phonecalls… After that, I became a football manager because below left me alone and I was bored. Then Freddie started to become sick, so I’ve stayed next to him. You know the end of the story.”

“… Not really. What did you do those past three years ? You weren’t in London...” The demon raised an eyebrow. His face was so beautiful under the moonlight without those sunglasses on…

“I went in Berlin, watched as Germany’s different sides went back together, and went in Russia when USSR fell.”

“That was in November and December 1991… You…” The snake cut him.

“I’ve roamed the Earth a bit after that. Nothing much.” Aziraphale was hit by another wave of sadness at the demon’s refusal to speak further. “So, results will come tomorrow, won’t they ?” The angel smiled slightly, biting back tears.

“They will, indeed.”

“That’s a wonderful night for such a country.”

\---------------------------------

The results came as expected.

The African National Congress party, Nelson’s, earned 62,65% of the votes.

There has been a negotiated compromise, since the accurate count had been difficult to get.

Nelson Mandela was the new president.

His inauguration took place on May 10th 1994 in Pretoria.

Crowley had stayed, explaining to the angel he had to get back in London the following day.

He had found his friend’s attire – a boubou – quite surprising for his usual standards.

He came back to London on May 12th. He had made a quick stop in North Africa, hating planes and feeling like something strong would come off those countries.

The angel went back around June 15th. They went out to eat in a new sushi restaurant.

He knew the celestial loved sushi. And he did owe him a nice dinner.

As years went on, terrorism and wars kept on going. Afghanistan’s war gave a thousands souls to Hell… Iraq’s one twice as much.

But Crowley didn’t bother reporting back those to Hell anymore. He took his time, visiting the angel regularly, both meeting in the bookshop. Aziraphale would always recognize the Bentley’s engine and have some wine ready for long nights talk or book reading. His car kept playing Queen no matter the album he wanted to hear. In the end, he stopped listening to the engine’s choices. He bought several plants, making a real Garden in his minimalistic gray flat.

He wanted to do large scales’ temptations. In 2008, he went for the phone’s lines, destroying every single British portable communication systems with the help of a couple of rats.

Right, a billion of rats.

The same day, Hell had called him for an important matter. He had to meet Hastur and Ligur in a graveyard next to a small town called Tadfield.

It was the Antichrist.

The end of times was starting.

And he wasn’t ready. He didn’t wanted Earth to end. He had lived too many good things there. He didn’t wanted to stop seeing the angel. He didn’t wanted to fight him… He didn’t wanted to fight anymore.

He called his friend after delivering the baby to the Chattering Nuns’ hospital.

Then, after a night of drinking, an idea came to their minds.

They would foster the kid so he would be both bad and good.

It also bought them time. He was overexcited at the prospect of seeing his friend more often.

He would be the nanny, the angel would be the gardener… The demon had always loved children anyways.

It had been centuries since she had used female attributes on his body. It was strange to feel the weight of the bosom. She hadn’t made them too big to avoid male attention. She had had a haircut somewhere around the 1990s, following Freddie’s short hair, but it had grown far bigger now. Perfect for a strick hair bun. Female sunglasses on the top of her nose, a hat on her head, a traditional black dress, heels and a suitcase, she knocked on the Dowling’s door. She had hoped her sober look wouldn’t attract any attention. She had been wrong. She had crossed the paths with at least a dozen men, and half of them lingered they eyes too long for her own liking. She thought about letting the nanny job over to Aziraphale, but seeing Warlock’s soft and bright face changed her mind. She would be perfect for the job, wouldn’t she ?

A small demonic miracle to secure her new job and she was left alone with the small baby, changing his diapers and playing with him.

She had always loved children’s innocence.

The angel came when Warlock was one years old, disguised as an ugly gardener. This appearance had made the demon snicker. She had always seen the angel in nice suits, with his usual lovely appearance, and seeing him looking like the worst of the whole house amused her. The young boy was now running around, sometimes throwing toys at people and mainly babbling… But she found him so nice…

Warlock never did anything bad to her. It was always against the people that hurted them.

He never threw a toy against the gardener.

She had a bedroom on the same level as Warlock’s.

Had it locked.

Just in case.

His father was rarely here. His mother always answered phone calls and wrote neverending letters, letting the Mrs Ashtoreth do as she wished.

It was nice to be free. She knew she had a job and reported back to Hell regularly, but when she was with the child… She was free.

She told him stories at bedtime.

When she ran out of stories, she went to see Aziraphale so he could read some more for her.

She left the boy wandering around the angel safely, keeping an eye on both of them from her bedroom’s window.

Sometimes, when men were too much, she joined them.

Soon enough, far too soon for her own liking, the boy was five.

She didn’t wanted to leave him, but they had agreed to give him some time to grow without them and become what he was. A part of her found some relief off that idea, knowing that male’s pressure around her would stop. She had had to face several unrequited attempts at seducing her or more, but she bit back with everything she could have under her hands. The fear of being hurt never scared them enough to leave her alone too long.

Another part was sad. She knew the boy wouldn’t be happy around his parents… Not much interactions nor love. He needed both. He was brilliant around her and the gardener.

She _loved_ him like a mother would love her child.

And she loved spending time with him and the Dowling’s gardener.

She knew it.

It felt like Heaven.

\---------------------------------

It was the day before Warlock’s 6th birthday. They would have to leave. Aziraphale knew he would feel sadness. He knew he would cherish those six wonderful years around his demon and that strange child that was the Antichrist. But they had to step out of his life. A Nanny couldn’t stay for another year, and he knew the demon would be angry at him if he stayed while she had to leave. So they went in London for one of their last reports as close observers in 2012, taking the main entrance. Crowley had changed into a male form and braided his long hair. This look made the angel feel things he rarely felt…

Well, it made him feel stronger feelings about the first Tempter.

After that meeting with their respective sides, the demon had requested a discussion.

They met in one of London’s busiest buses. Aziraphale was reading Heaven’s newspaper. His friend’s presence behind him made him a bit restless. He knew that the demon’s appearance wasn’t the only one responsible. He brushed the strong feeling away as the snake told him he had doubts about Warlock.

He brushed the comment off too… But Crowley rarely had doubts.

And when he had some, it usually was a really bad sign.

He should have taken it into consideration.

Warlock’s eleven birthday came and the truth came out to both celestials. The angel had hoped his friend had a backup plan.

Until they met the witch, he relied on the demon.

Then “The nice and accurate prophecies of Agnes Nutter” ended up in the Bentley’s backseat. The etheral bookkeeper had been so shaken he didn’t noticed when the car left.

Then his stupid sense of duty hit him in the face. Armageddon was a day away, and he had the keys to avoid it… But he still hoped angels would understand him.

He had hoped God would support him.

He had been wrong.

And this had led him alone, discoporated, in Heaven.

He wanted to stop this nonsense. And he realized how much crap he had put to his best friend for 6 000 years. How much the demon meant to him and how much he needed him by his side.

He went back to Earth, communicating with Crowley, unable to see him but feeling his distress and relief, before trying to find a receptive body.

Before meeting Madam Tracy, he had ended up in a preacher’s body on live TV in the USA.

He wouldn’t know how viral the recording had been until a couple of months later.

Then he had stopped Armageddon.

With the witch, her boyfriend, the Antichrist’s human friends, the Antichrist himself…

And Crowley.

This had gone so fast he barely knew how to understand and cope with what had happened.

They had sat on a bench in Tadfield, waiting for the delivery guy and Oxford’s bus, drinking a bottle of red wine, sharing it like couples would do.

They had talked about their next step.

They would have to choose their faces wisely, following Agnes’ advice.

For now, his friend had offered him a shelter for the night.

Cursing his Heaven’s belonging, he had accepted.

That was the second time he went in the demon’s minimalistic flat. He had been blown away by the small garden he had grown since the last time.

The snake’s own small Garden of Eden.

When the latter left him to sleep with a hot cocoa and a small pile of books about astronomy, the angel had spent some time with the plants, showing them love. Every living being deserved a bit of love, no matter what they were.

Then he had read on the comfortable sofa, on which he fell asleep for the first time since he came up on Earth as the Guardian of the Eastern Gate, feeling safe.

He had trouble grasping what made him a bit melancholic.

He felt a bit lonesome, even if his best friend was next door.

\---------------------------------

After facing each other’s trial and making sure their respective sides would leave them alone for some time, they met in St James’ park to change their bodies. Then they went to the Ritz to celebrate their victory over the end of Earth.

They really cherished this planet and its inhabitants too much to let them die, even if humans could be walking disasters. Adam had proved them that faith in humanity was one of the best things that could ever happen to anyone. Anathema, Newton, Madam Tracy and Sergeant Shadwell had been examples that grown ups could change.

This was the start of their new lives.

Both celestials had parted ways to check on their places. Neither of them really knew what to do since they wouldn’t receive any assignments for some time. Aziraphale had been impressed by the demon’s attention to details when he saw his bookshop. Crowley had used his Bentley right away, going for a week’s trip around the United Kingdom. He had needed to get away from London and cherish his restored car.

Once he came back, he took his time to busy himself with his plants and going for a dinner or two around England’s biggest town with the angel, discovering new restaurants.

They had good times.

But something was missing.

Something that made them feel incomplete.

Both of them felt it.

None of them could grasp it.

Three months after Armageddidn’t, as the snake was hiding beneath some heater in the angel’s bookshop, as he did regularly since cold started to settle down, Anathema Device sent them a card. She wanted them to come at her’s and Newton Pulsifer’s wedding at the end of October.

Of course they would marry around Halloween.

Aziraphale was excited by this prospect. Crowley had wondered how she knew their addresses since they never talked long enough to share that information.

He decided to go because his friend had begged him to come.

That was because he felt pity for the angel.

Definitely not because the sheer joy the latter expressed had warmed his soul.

When they arrived at the address given on the invitation card, they realized Anathema had rented a villa for her guests. She came to welcome them in a black dress. The angel, dressed in a black tuxedo, had been a bit shocked when she saw her dressed like that… Usually women avoided black the day of their wedding. The demon had chosen his white tuxedo to have give some contrast with his friend… And he may have been a bit fond of them looking like opposites that matched. Aziraphale had been delighted to see him like this… But the Bentley’s ride to the meeting point had made him pale and too shaken to show his emotions right now.

“Glad you two made it ! Did you had any trouble getting here ?” Crowley gave a glance to Aziraphale’s still white face and chuckled.

“Not much. One pedestrian was a bit of an asshole when we left London though...”

“You almost _ran_ over him !!!” The horrified voice of the Principality made the snake laugh. The witch rolled her eyes. What would she expect coming from a creature of Hell. She smiled and moved slightly to the side to allow them to step inside the huge place. It was decorated with black, orange and white papercuts and flowers, some golden flakes had been spread on furniture, white and red flowers from diverse genders were disposed here and there. Of course the plants had sparked the demon’s interest. She broke the silence.

“Right, since I don’t want anyone to go home drunk…” She took a large bowl. “You have to put your car keys here. If I see them taken out or if I see your car moved an inch away, I’m going to give you hell.” Crowley raised an eyebrow. “And you will have to sleep here. I’ll give you your bedroom key when we’ll go upstairs. Then I will have to leave you to dress up.”

“I come from Hell, why should I believe you can do worse than them ?” She smiled devishly, making the snake doubt his own sentence.

“Because I have Holy Water.” She showed a shrine full of clear water. “Just over here. And I would never hesitate to use it if I think you are a threat to my friends and family. _Safety first_.”

The simple sight of it made the occult being a bit uneasy. The angel frowned. “You wouldn’t dare to use it ?!?”

“I would if there’s danger. Car keys.” The demon dropped his pair of keys after giving the angel a questionning look and getting a cold and worried one in return. She smiled brightly, the bowl tucked safely under her left arm. “Perfect. Now, follow me.” The two baffled celestials started to walk behind her after giving each other a quick glance. The snake’s was a bit mocking while the angel’s was saying ‘I’ve told you’. Anathema had made them walk up to the farest and more silence part of the house. She opened a door, letting the key on the door. She turned to face them and smiled. “This will be your bedroom for the night. Hope you’ll enjoy it. Wedding’s at four, take your time putting your clothes and cleaning stuff in here. I’ll see you in two hours.”

As she made her way out, Aziraphale, red with embarrasment, stopped her. “Excuse me but… We only have one bedroom for both of us ?” She nodded.

“Yeah. Your friend told me it shall be better that way. Enjoy !” She had a devious smile on her lips when she ran away, leaving a shocked angel and a confused demon on the way. She disappeared in a dark corner before the latter could ever ask his question. He looked at his friend, frowning.

“Do you have any friends that could say such a stupid thing ?” The Principality blushed as he tried to form a proper answer.

“… No… Not really… You ?”

“Neither.” He sighed. “You don’t sleep much anyway, do you ? And we’ve already shared your bookshop’s private room several times for some nights. Won’t be difficult.”

The angel nodded, his voice caught in his throat as something bothered and made him a bit sad. The bedroom was an en-suite. King sized bed covered with black and white silk sheets, a private bathroom that was illuminated by a small window and some light colors, and a private office covered with bookcases and a bit darker than the other rooms. It looked cosy and pretty warm. The occult being seemed to enjoy it a bit even if he tried to hide it. The angel was amazed by the book collection that was under his grasp, already reading all the titles to find one he hadn’t had encountered yet in his long life. The demon layed on the bed, testing it and rolling in the softness of the sheets. When Aziraphale came out of the office part with three books in his hands, his soul warmed up under the sight of his friend splaying all over the large resting furniture. Something inside him felt the urge to lay next to him, hold him.

But that wouldn’t be right, would it ? He was an angel and the other was still a demon. And they were _friends_. Friends would never be that intimate. He moved slowly and as quietly as he could back to the office, sitting on the large and comfy armchair that was enthroned in the middle of the room, putting two books on the small table next to it and reading the third. He had to clear his mind from those strange thoughts up to some point, otherwise the wedding day would be harder than he thought…

An hour and a half later, Aziraphale heard a soft knock on the main door. He put down his book, moving towards the entrance. A short glance towards the bed made him smile. Crowley was laying on his back, still fully clothed, silk sheets all over him, his head turned to his side, his mouth slightly open, showing off his human teeth, breathing from time to time like any human was supposed to do. Taking a deep breathe he didn’t have to take, the angel moved to open the door, leaving it slightly ajar. Newton was standing awkwardly on the other side, dressed in a black suit, readjusting his glasses. The celestial smiled brightly to the soon-to-be wed man.

“Hello. You look dashing ! What do I owe you the pleasure for ?” The human moved awkwardly from his side to side, hands fidgeting.

“Thank you. Anathema told me I would find you both here. I may need a bit of help…” The angel’s eyebrows furrowed in anguish.

“What do you need ?”

“I… We have trouble with the flowers. And… Maybe if you could…” Aziraphale sighed, relaxing.

“Do not worry. Wait a minute. We are coming.” He closed the door then turned towards the bed. The demon slept when he was bored, but never really liked being woke up. He sat on the edge of the bed, took another deep breathe, pushing any inconvenient thoughts off the way, then put a hand on the slender frame, taking care of touching only the sheets, then shook it. “Crowley… You need to wake up.” His voice came out higher than expected. The sleepy groan that came from his friend made him reconsider the idea of going downstairs _with_ him. It somehow resonated with something inside him, and it made him… Burn ?

“Whaddayawant ?”

The answer startled the Principality, snapping him back to his current situation. He tried to take control of his voice again. “Newton wants us to help him.”

“’bout wot ?” The demon hadn’t moved a single inch nor opened his eyes. The celestial was really glad.

“He needs help with flowers.” His voice had started to lower its volume without his consent.

“_Wot_ ?”

“Flowers !”

Aziraphale gulped then stood up quickly as Crowley rolled on his side. Then, with a swift, classy and snakelike motion, threw his legs on the ground and stood up, his sunglasses back on the base of his nose, hiding his eyes. He moved around the bed towards the angel. “Better be interesting ones. Would be pretty furious otherwise.” The etheral being nodded and moved towards the door, opening it, revealing a stressed out and clumsy young man that gave them a hopeful glance when he saw them both.

“Thank you so much. Please, follow me.” The two celestials walked behind him as they went through the corridors and stairs. “We have received the flowers a couple of minutes ago, when they should have arrived two hours sooner, and as everyone’s already in motion for the ceremony, I was the only one available to take care of putting them everywhere… But I can’t figure out how and which combinations are the best. I’ve been told you’re pretty good with plants...”

The demon frowned. “Who told you that ?”

The cold question sent a shiver down the young fiance. “Uh… A woman… She seemed to know you… She didn’t gave her name and disappeared pretty quickly in the crowd when I tried to look at her… But that was the best advice I had yet… _Sorry_.”

Aziraphale looked at the man with pity. “Don’t be sorry. It’s alright. You did well.”

The snake groaned but didn’t said a word as they ended up in the massive hall that was full with people running everywhere. Newton led them to another room where four boxes of flowers of different colors and shapes were stored. Every single one of them was beautiful. Not a single spot nor a hole on them. Crowley walked around them, giving them cold stares and spending some time thinking before looking at both male-shaped beings next to him. “Fine. What kind of shapes do you need ?”

“Erm… Two crowns… And eight bouquets. Then the ones left with be put in those two baskets that Adam and Pepper will carry along.”

A sigh escaped the demon’s lips before taking out every cold shades coloured’s flowers out and starting a crown by sorting them out from darker to lighter shades. “Do the same with the warm shades. You’re doing the second crown. We’ll figure out what we’ll do with the bouquets.”

All three set in motion, led by the occult being’s orders.

Under fifteen minutes, every bouquet was finished, looking like rainbows, the crowns were ready and the baskets were full of white and red flowers. Adam and Pepper showed up, him dressed in a suit and her in a red and white dress. The boy looked at both celestials with a slight smile.

“Anathema told you to come then. That’s great to see you two in happier times.” The angel smiled back brightly.

“Great to see you too ! How are you doing ?”

“Well, pretty good. Everything’s returned to boring normal, but at least we’re starting to make changes with the world. We started an ecology movement.” Pepper straightened her back.

“We did. And it’s starting to catch more people into it. We have billions of followers on twitter that are doing things on their scale !” The etheral being laughed.

“Well then, that’s amazing ! Glad to see you’ve turned things your way. And your friends ?”

“Oh they’re alright. They’re here too. You’ll get to see them next to the witnesses. Now, if you excuse us, we have to find Anathema.”

Both kids left the adults alone. Newton excused himself, taking the crowns and bouquets with him as he left, having to rush to the altar… If that could be called an altar. They wanted a pagan wedding, with a bit of classic christian one mixed up. The celestials followed shortly, taking place around the back of the garden, looking as the ceremony started. The angel cried a bit with happiness when the couple kissed and left running back to the villa. Then everyone moved to the opposite part of the gardens where a table with different plates filled with food waited for them. The angel was feasting with the wonderful small pastries and petit fours all around. Crowley ended up drinking a couple of glasses of red wine in a corner, a bit too overwhelmed by the multitude of people that had shown up : people from Tadfield, Anathema’s and Newton’s family, the Them’s family and their friends, Madam Tracy and Sergeant Shadwel - even if they didn’t go by those names anymore -… There were at least a hundred people in that garden, eating, drinking and talking about everything that went on their minds, and the demon was a bit bored. His angel took part in this strange gathering. The newly wed humans came back an hour later, in more comfortable clothes, offering them to gather inside so the big party could begin.

For an hour and a half, drunk people danced, kids running around them without giving a single fuck to the world. Then dinner began. They had seats with their names on them. The occult being had been placed next to his 6 000 years’ _southern pansy_. He had been partly glad of the idea, as the only people that interested him were the children, the witch and his friend… But another part was a bit annoyed by the idea since the etheral being seemed to attract almost every stupid mind around him. When people started eating, he realized that the only ones left sober enough were the young ones and himself. Someone almost made their table fall when he stood, making the snake even more annoyed.

“C’mon ! Enjoy ! This is a day of joy !” The booming voice startled him. Of course it came from his platinium haired neighbor.

“I’m not much into crowds. And I haven’t drink enough to deal with that kind of stupid stuff, believe me.” The celestial miracled a bottle of Chateau-Laffite and put it next to him.

“That may help then ?” He had that stupid grin Crowley kind of loved and hated at the same time. It was a sign he wouldn’t sober up until his vessel couldn’t carry any more and he would have to do it. Wild angels always made such a mess of themselves.

“Fine. Don’t tell me I didn’t warned you then.” He poured the divine liquid in his empty glass and gulped it in one go.

Of course he emptied the whole bottle, though he couldn’t recall it.

And in no time, he was dancing wildly in the middle of the crowd.

Somehow his friend had joined him and tried some moves to fit in the blasting popular music that was on.

At this moment, three feelings hit him.

The first one was Lust.

The second one felt like being safe.

The third one was the closest he ever had been to Love.

A demon couldn’t feel Love. Well, they could, but since they couldn’t remember what it did, no occult being could name it.

And at this exact moment, he could recall fragments of his long lost memories as an angel.

The only problem was he couldn’t find out whoever felt all those feelings for him.

And even less if there was only one person.

He was too drunk for that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope I'll be able to update this story before the end of next week. Work is back, and it's pretty time consuming.   
Like fucking HELL.   
Don't hesitate to correct me if you feel like doing it.   
I keep an eye on every comment and every kudo left here. Don't worry. If I take some time answering you, that's only because I can't use my phone at work. (yeah, schools and stuff...) I'm sorry !

**Author's Note:**

> THANK YOU FOR READING.  
Feel free to leave kudos if you liked it...  
And if you see any mistakes, I'm open to reports. It's not beta'd.


End file.
